My Highland Prisoner: A Highlander Erotic Romance (3 page)

Strong, callused hands found their way from her waist to the back of her thighs. Then, Finlay lifted her up and she immediately locked her legs around his waist. Heat suffused her body from where his manhood fitted against her core.

The butterflies in her stomach picked up. They swirled dangerously, as they tried to escape her body. Ailsa wanted to let them free. More than anything, she wanted to let go.

“Help me.”

The words tumbled from her lips and onto his. She pulled back and looked down at Finlay. A strained smile curved his lips, as he looked up at her. Then, he shifted her body to press more firmly into her feminine heat, making her gasp.

“I will, dear one. Do no' worra.”

She briefly sensed that he was carrying her, then the soft material of her mattress hit her back. It was another testament to the changes that he had brought them. Goose feathers were now stuffed into her mattress, making it far more comfortable than it had been when straw was in the mattress before his arrival. The goose down was one of the small luxuries she allowed herself.

She
had struggled between buying a new dress, new clothes for her brothers, or feathers for her bed. As much as she'd chastised herself at the time, calling herself a fool and daft, at this moment she was happy for the comfort.

Around them, the linen net fell back into place, blocking out the insects that found homes in the warmth of the castle. Finlay loomed over her, the laces of his linen shirt were undone and revealed a dusting of gold hair she hadn't seen before. When he'd been shirtless in front of her, sweating from his work in the field, Ailsa had tried not to stare too much and avoided her urge to memorize every dip and curve of his body.

But now, she looked and looked. Her eyes trailed over tiny white lines that were raised in various places over his body. They were either scars from his time in jail with her father or his time as a warrior, Ailsa wasn't sure. Then again, she wasn't sure if he'd been a warrior either, since Finlay did not talk much about himself.

"What are ye thinking about, lass?" his husky voice coaxed her, as his heated brown eyes met hers.

Ailsa raised her head and for the first time since she'd met Finlay, she took a good, long look at the man she was about to give herself to. He had a slight cleft in his chin that she knew was a sign of his stubbornness. His strong cheek bones jutted out and gave a harsh angle to his face. His eyebrows, only slightly darker than his sandy hair, rested above hooded brown eyes. His nose was slightly crooked, as though it had been broken a time or two. A faint scar ran just underneath his eye, almost to his lips. Ailsa wondered why she hadn't noticed it before, even though it was light and almost invisible, it was still there. Currently, it was highlighted by the light from her candles.

Her small fingers reached up and her thumb caressed the mark, trying to take the sting out of a scar that probably no longer hurt. Then, she followed the scar all the way to his lips. His lips were pale pink and swollen from their earlier kiss, yet they were soft.

When his tongue came out and licked her thumb playfully, Ailsa followed suit. She moved her tongue in time with his, licking suddenly parched lips.

"Ye," Ailsa said, although she didn't realize that she'd spoken. The words sounded far away, as if they were issued from a different mouth with a different voice.

Finlay's eyes darkened before his hand reached up and claimed her wayward fingers, pressing a fierce kiss onto the tips. His lips continued downward, placing a soft kiss into her palm, and then onto her wrist. He sucked on the flesh of her arm until she felt the barest amount of pain. Then, he stopped and caressed the love bite with his tongue.

Slowly, Finlay released her hand and reached between their bodies for the hem of her shift. He gripped it between his fingers and slowly pulled it up, letting his knuckles run over her naked thighs.

Ailsa never took her eyes off his face. As she felt the material climb higher, the cool night air caressed parts of her flesh that she didn't dare expose, even in the safety of her bedchamber. For some reason, against her better judgment, she trusted Finlay. Her trust was not based off of her father's word, but on the merits he displayed.

His hands stopped at her waist, waiting there as he stared down at her with concern. "Do ye want me to stop? I can no' promise I will after this, lass."

Ailsa sucked in a breath and held it, knowing he was giving her a choice. All the concerns she had before came racing back. She reminded herself that once she gave herself to him, there was no going back. She would be a fallen woman. If she let a man below her station into her bed, it spelled out certain doom. Suddenly, she looked in to his eyes and glimpsed a part of his soul,
knowing what she wanted to do.

Her fingers shook, as she reached down and lifted her shift herself. She whisked it over her head and settled back on the bed, spread out naked for him. "I dinna know when it happened, my handsome highland prisoner, but I love ye and I want ye."

Finlay's jaw clenched, as he looked down at Ailsa. Her smooth, pale skin glowed in the candlelight and her hair fanned out around her in a dark halo.

"Ye tempt me too much, lass," Finlay growled, as he spread her legs wide, scooted down the bed, and ducked his head. "Ye should know I'm no' a good man."

A cry broke from Ailsa's lips, as she felt Finlay's tongue on her inner thigh, branding her with his mark. Quickly, she reached her hands down. Her fingers tangled in the soft curls of his hair, intending to pull him up; but, the next caress was more blatant, no longer a warning mark on her skin.
Unable to help herself, Ailsa's back arched and her head snapped back, as ecstasy coursed through her. Then, another cry broke from her lips, this one louder and higher pitched. Finlay's teeth, tongue, and mouth continued their assault on her nether flesh, while his arm shot up and his hand closed over her mouth.

Opening her mouth, Ailsa bit into the fleshy part of his palm and her fingers tightened in his hair, threatening to pull the strands out. Her thighs shook, as Finlay lay siege to her body. He took what he wanted and branded her as no man ever had or ever would.

The words from the maids flitted across her pleasure-drugged mind. She remember them talking about this type of act. Both women had disliked it, saying that the man was either too rough or did not know how to pleasure them. Ailsa wondered if this was the pleasure they were discussing, the sensation of being pulled taut and spun like thread. She only wondered what happened when she could not be wound tighter and when the thread was pulled to its limits. Would she break then?

Foreign sounds came from her throat. Her hips seemed to move on their own accord, needing the heat of Finlay's mouth. The butterflies beat against her stomach in a chaotic tornado, desperate to be set free. On a sharp intake, Ailsa's body stilled and so did Finlay's tongue. Her body was stretched to the point of breaking.

She didn't know what to do or what to expect. Then, it happened, as Finlay dived deeper and sucked some unknown part of her into his mouth. He flicked the tiny bundle of nerves with his skillful tongue, while her teeth dug deep into the flesh of his palm. At the same time, the butterflies raced up her throat and were set free on a scream as she broke.

The scream, half muffled by Finlay's palm, went on forever. It spun out into eternity, as he continued to drag her on. It was pleasure and it was pain and every hair on her body stood on end, highly sensitized.

"What did ye do to me?" Ailsa asked, her voice hoarse.

A dark chuckle was the only response that came from his lips. Then, he switched course and traveled up her belly between her breasts to her lips. She let the question slip from her mind, as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

There was something magical about Finlay, something shimmering and just between them. Perhaps a fairy had come and enchanted them. It was not impossible, since Ailsa knew the highlands were full of magic, wonder, and chaos.

As her thought drifted, so did Finlay's hand. His palms weighed the flesh of her breast, as his thumb and forefinger tweaked her nipple. She moaned into his mouth, the sound innocent and desperate.

There was something she was missing, something that Finlay had yet to give her. The evidence was in the hard bulge resting just against her thigh and in the strained set of Finlay's mouth as he caressed her.

It was only then that Ailsa realized that Finlay was still dressed.

Frowning against his lips, Ailsa pulled back and looked up into his warm brown eyes. "Ye 'ave no' undressed."

A strained smile flashed across his face, as he stared down at her. His wayward hand still kneading her breast, he said, "And well I know it, Ailsa."

Then, he swooped back down and captured her lips in another devastating kiss, as he slowly maneuvered himself between her thighs and reached down towards his pants. Something thick and hot sprang out from between Finlay's legs and slapped against her inner thigh.

Ailsa jumped back in surprise and Finlay laughed at her. "Dinna worry. 'Tis only me."

Looking down, Ailsa tried to see
that
part of him, the part that the maids had talked about. Pieces of their conversations came back to her, snippets about the length of a man and the girth. Ailsa distinctly remembered them saying that no matter the man's size, it was how he used what God had graced him with. Ailsa only hoped that Finlay knew how to use it well.

"Dinna worry, lass," Finlay cooed, as he settled between her thighs. Then, she felt something slick rub against her womanhood, as he said, "I will na hurt ye."

Still, worry gnawed at her and thoughts of what was to come next ate at her. Ailsa had never liked surprises, they were just as bad as secrets. She knew that Finlay was a man of his word. He'd kept it from the moment he'd stepped foot in their home. He had never betrayed one of her people or been callous or uncaring. She knew that she had to put her faith in him, but it was something she hadn't done since her father had left.

"I trust ye."

As much as she could, Ailsa relaxed into the bed and gave herself fully to him. Instead of recapturing her lips, Finlay bent his head and closed his mouth around her nipple. A sharp cry fell from her lips before she forced her fist to her mouth to silence herself.

Churning started in her stomach again. It was different than the butterflies, more potent. Something was about to happen and it would change her life forever. Ailsa could see it shining in the air, like fairy dust.

Another cry tore from her throat, as Finlay switched to her other breast and subtly shifted his hips. She felt his hands travel down her body, one resting on her hip and the other curving around the back of her thigh. His teeth gently tugged at her nipple and her hips jutted forward. She was desperate for something that she didn't even understand; but, Finlay knew.

The first touch wasn't strange. In fact, Ailsa didn't realize what was happening until Finlay's sweat dripped onto her naked body and brought her back to the present moment. That was when she felt it, the pressure at the entrance of her womanhood. It was a stretching sensation, as if someone was trying to rip through leather. A silent tear slid down Ailsa's cheek at the pain. It was uncomfortable, nearly unbearable, but she suffered through it for Finlay.

"I am sorra, dear one," Finlay said in a strained voice. His hips moved as slow as they could, as he fed himself inside of her. The hand at her hip moved to just beside her head and he said, "Let me hurt ye, just this once."

Ailsa stared up at him through her tears and gave him a watery smile. Taking a deep breath, she turned her head and nuzzled his arm, seeking his comfort.

"Bite me."

Ailsa didn't hesitate as she opened her mouth and bit down hard, just as he thrust completely into her. Blood coated her tongue, as pain infused her body. Finlay didn't move, choosing to remain perfectly still inside of her instead. Seconds passed by, as Ailsa tried to breathe through the pain. A minute or so later, she was able to actually take a breath.

It was only then that the realized her teeth were still latched onto Finlay's arm and her nails were digging into his biceps. Half her body was turned towards his arm, as he loomed over her. Very slowly, Ailsa released him. With that release, she felt muscles she didn't even realize she had flex around Finlay's manhood. He groaned above her.